Knitting? Are you freaking kidding me?
by cresmoon
Summary: Michael must participate in another day of arts and crafts at the whack shack, and he's not too happy about it...chapter 2 is up.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Knitting? Are you freaking kidding me?

Summary: What if jewelry-making and ashtry-making weren't the only crafts the whack shack inhabitants had to do? This takes place while Michael is still in the whack shack, trying to get the blueprints from Haywire.

Genre: Humor

Rating: I'll say PG-13 to be on the safe side, certainly nothing nearly as bad as you see on the show will happen in this.

Author's note: This is just a silly fic I wrote in the last 5 minutes. I've been trying to learn to knit and it's hard for me so I'm taking out my frustration this way. Hope you all enjoy it! It's not meant to be anything more than (hopefully) something that'll make you laugh. Feedback is appreciated. I've never written PB humor fic before though I have written Harry Potter and X-Men humor fic. (Also, for those of you who don't know this, "Mr. Patoshik" is Haywire's real name).

Knitting? Are you freaking kidding me?

"Today, class, we're going to learn how to knit," said Martha (yes, that was her real name) in her usual nasal twine. "Now, pick up the needle with your left hand and…" Michael tuned her out. He sighed inwardly. He realized that he had to make certain sacrifices to get his brother out of prison, but this was ridiculous.

"Mr. Scofield, please pay attention!" snapped Martha. What the hell was this, the fourth grade? Yeesh! "Now, who can tell me the difference between knit and purl?"

A few people actually raised their hands. Michael thought they must be high. Unfortunately, Martha non-Stewart chose to ignore those hands and focused her gaze directly on Michael. Oh, crap. "Mr. Scofield, do you know the difference between the knit stitch and the purl stitch?"

Michael glared. He didn't care that he had to keep up appearances to get those missing blueprints from Haywire – he had had enough. "Yes, I do. Knit is the first half of the word you are (wit being the other half), and purl is the color of your dentures after you soak them in Dentucreme every night."

Needless to say, Martha did not take this well. And her punishment was too horrible to bear. She gritted her teeth and shot Michael a death glare back. "Just for that, Mr. Scofield, do you know what I'm going to do?"

"Ground me?"

"No," said Martha coolly. "Much worse than that. I'm going to make you wear Mr. Patoshik's latest knitting project. And you will have to wear it _all day long._"

And Michael watched in horror as Martha took a hideous pink and purple-striped sweater w/glittery gold fuzzy pom poms all over it and, as the strong arms who tried to forced Michael to take the sedatives held down his arms to keep him from struggling, forced it over Michael's head.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Knitting? Are You Freaking Kidding Me? Chapter 2

Author's note: I don't even know why I'm posting this. I wrote it months ago after the first chapter and HATED it. But I found it today while clearing out my files and figured what the heck. Love it, like it, hate it, whatever. Let me know what you think. (Just like the first chapter, this one takes place around the first season episode J-Cat while Michael is trying to get the missing blueprints from Haywire).

Michael put his head in his hands and groaned. Wearing Haywire's ugly sweater was bad enough the first time, but after Michael had acted up in class again the following day, he'd been forced to wear another of Haywire's even uglier sweaters – for a whole week! It'd been one week since Martha non-Stewart had made him wear another one of Haywire's purple monstrosities (this time with a hat and ear cozies to match!) and he hadn't been able to live in down since. Crazies had been pointing and laughing at him all week and calling him very undignified names. Looking like some horribly mutated version of Barney the dinosaur had not been favorable to Michael's reputation around the whack shack.

Or so he thought.

"Hey, Michael!"

Michael's head snapped up. "For the last time, I will NOT sing 'I love you, you love me' in d-flat and if you ask me one more time…" Michael's voice trailed off as he noticed it was Haywire.

"No, no! I thought you looked great," insisted Haywire. He plunked his tray down on the lunchroom table and sat down across from Michael. "How couldn't you? You were wearing my best piece of knitting yet!" Oh, my God. Haywire really _was_ insane.

Realizing that few people ever reached the levels of crazy that Haywire probably aspired to, Michael knew he had to play nice. He still needed the blueprints after all. "Yeah, well, thanks," mumbled Michael. He looked down at the piece of I-can't-believe-it's-not-cheesecake! on his lunch tray and hoped Haywire would take a hike into some yarn-forbidden territory.

"So how many compliments have you gotten on my sweater so far?" asked Haywire w/a completely straight face of genuine sincerity.

Michael went numb. As Janice would have said, oh. My. God. How nuts was he to think people actually _liked_ that hideous thing?

Haywire casually stuck a fork in the "cheesecake." "I'm thinking of starting a business selling my sweaters. The knitting teacher loves them so much, she thinks I should go into business! I figured, why not? Beats making 5 cents an hour in PI."

Michael swallowed. What was he going to say? That that crazy loon Martha only complimented Haywire because she had a crush on him? (Michael had spied her before knitting class one day doodling 'Mrs. Martha Haywire' and little hearts on the latest batch of knitting pop quizzes). That wouldn't go over well w/Haywire. NO.

"Er, well, you see the thing is, Haywire…"

"Yes?" Haywire leaned forward eagerly.

"Um, I, well, uh, that is, I really don't think you should be selling your sweaters…"

"And why not?" snapped Haywire. Uh-oh. "What, you don't think they're good enough?"

"No, no, no, that's not it at all!" Michael gulped.

"They WHY wouldn't I want to sell them?" Haywire leaned forward, his eyes glinting menacingly, making him look like Yosemite Sam on LSD.

"Because I-I love this sweater," Michael choked on the word 'love' much in the same way the prisoners choked on the prison cafeteria's brussel sprout pie. "And I don't want anyone else to have a, um, a…Haywire original." If lying was a train to hell, Michael suddenly had a first-class ticket to the deepest tier.

"Really?" Haywire looked touched (not necessarily just by insanity). "You really liked my sweater that much?"

"Oh, uh, oh yes! Yes!" Seeing a prime opportunity to suck up, Michael nodded his head vigorously. "Absolutely! You're the greatest knitter ever, you really are!"

Haywire leapt forward and wrapped Michael in a bear hug. Michael gagged, trying not to smell the powerful Crisco shortening in the I-can't-believe-it's-not-cheesecake! on Haywire's breath.

"Do you know what I'm going to do, Michael?" said Haywire happily.

"Um, no…" _Please God, let this mean he'll give me the missing blueprints._

"Well, it's a surprise but," Haywire pulled back and whispered conspiratorially: "Let's just say I know that yellow chenille Fuzzy-Wuzzy yarn is your favorite…"

And Haywire walked off whistling cheerfully to himself, leaving Michael to kick himselfin the most painful place possible.


End file.
